Chapter 6 #3
“I’m not famous yet, but you’re right, I should have thought of the security problem.” Leaving Mabingion would make her less vulnerable. As soon as she found out who killed her team and why, she would.
Scooping up her tablet, she dropped it in her bag, which she reconfigured into a backpack to slip over her shoulders. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to Devanesh, the security chief.” She deliberately passed close enough to Brenner to whisper. “Try not to zap her if she over-torques your jets.”
His eyebrow arched pointedly, but he said nothing as he grabbed his coat and followed in her wake.
Davidro’s records had detailed Brenner’s unique, powerful talent for sensing and manipulating electrical forces, but she’d seen little of it in action.
He was smart to keep it hidden, but it annoyed her that he had to.
Hell, it pissed her off that she had to hide her own two patterner-class minder talents, benign as they were.
It was no wonder that Ayorinn’s Legacy still pulsed throughout the galaxy whenever a new poetic quatrain came out.
She loved all one hundred forty-seven poems that she’d found.
More probably lurked in forgotten languages and obscure databanks on backwater planets, lost, overlooked, or biding their time.
In quiet moments, she contemplated them, trying to find the hidden code that spoke to some people of peaceful acceptance for minders everywhere, and spoke to others of fiery rebellion. Taken as a whole, the quatrains promised that minders would become free and equal citizens.
She especially loved that they appeared on their own unpredictable schedule and from multiple origin points, as if by primordial spark.
They inspired artists everywhere, spreading their reach even further.
The galactic government’s military’s increasingly heavy-handed eradication efforts only made the resulting failures even more spectacular.
Historical newstrends abounded with the high-casualty aftermaths.
She shook her head. Clearly, her attention span was shot.
She wanted quiet comfort and a day off to mourn, but neither would bring her friends back or honor the sacrifice they hadn’t signed on for.
The best thing she could do for them before she left was to spotlight whatever nasty secret had gotten them killed.
“What’s wrong?” Brenner’s quiet voice in her ear startled her. He could move quietly when he wanted, and was more observant than she’d thought.
“Sorry, just stress.” The impulse to rest her head on his chest and just breathe took her by surprise. She was definitely a mess.
The interesting, active people around her were much better for her than the dark thoughts in her head. She gave him a warm smile. “Come on. After security, we’ll go meet the smartest journalist and nicest man on the planet.”
After brief introductions, she left Brenner loitering in the anteroom with a couple of Tapio’s security while she met with Tapio himself. It netted her a shared byline on a dull but bill-paying story about how all local companies had been frozen out of a planetary government construction project.
She also had a strong new angle on a top-trend story she’d published five months ago.
Back then, she’d reported that the CPS had allowed its covert operations division to capture and mistreat its independent contractors, most of whom were Minder Corps retirees.
She’d carefully stayed far away from any mention of Davidro or his staff, but she’d ruthlessly mined his journals for other verifiable names, dates, and events.
Her research confirmed the sad truth that Davidro was not even the worst sadistic twist allowed to run rampant.
The CPS had testily denied her story and the dozens that followed as journalists on other planets published similar stories and linked to hers.
No one believed it was a coincidence that the CPS had recently made a show of touting their new budget-minded policy to end the practice of hiring independent contractors.
Now, one of Tapio’s deep sources had recommended looking at how those former contractors were doing. Arco’s finder sense had spiked, meaning she’d probably already seen the right data and just had to find it again to make the connection.
After two more meetings, a trip to her flitter with Brenner’s new monitoring equipment, and a disappointing lunch, she sent the increasingly tense Brenner off to scout the places his new security access would let him go, and told him to come back in two hours.
Doing so was as much for her as it was for him.
She found herself wanting to entertain him instead of doing her job.
She was too aware of him as a mysterious and admittedly magnetic man whom she still owed for interfering in his death.
Meanwhile, her finder sense kept sparking around him like she was on the verge of uncovering the fabled, two-hundred-year-old treasure ships of the fallen Central League.
He was a beacon or a catalyst, but to or for what, she hadn’t a clue.
Thankfully, Novo G had promised her at least two new security staff within forty-eight hours. Brenner would have some respite, and so would she.